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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910432">Our Own Language</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkchocochica/pseuds/milkchocochica'>milkchocochica</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rang De [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TharnType the Series (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Fights, Forgiveness, Healing, Love, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Talking, our boys being terrible at communication</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:48:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkchocochica/pseuds/milkchocochica</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been together for a year. They are soulmates. They love each other. That should have fixed all their problems...right? </p><p>Wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rang De [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>269</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Our Own Language</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A.N: This time I’m back with love for P’Jeed who is adorable and gorgeous and I love her so much that I centered this delicious thing around her. I hope you guys enjoy it! </p><p>My eternal thanks to my sister-in-fics: mostmgicalf_kingunicorn41_43110 for her continued support, critique and words. If you haven’t checked out her stuff yet...what in the hell are you waiting for??? </p><p>Disclaimer: None of these lovelies are mine...with the exception of Prow. That man jumped right out of my noggin.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His shirt sticks to his back uncomfortably, his thighs ache and he’s pretty sure there’s a blister forming on his foot.</p><p>Yet  keeps walking; keeps increasing the distance between himself and Type. The unforgiving heat fuels his rage, speeds his ever increasing gait.</p><p>He hears the warning ding from his phone; he’s forgotten to charge it and now it’s about to die. The screen turns to black as he ignores the 6<sup>th</sup> consecutive call from Type and walks. He ignores the bond that’s pulling him back towards the direction of home and he walks. He ignores his own discomfort and he walks.</p><p>Bangkok; its life and its people pass him in a whirl of color and Tharn keeps walking.</p><p>Because if he stops, he will break. The rage will be pushed aside by the sobs that itches to crawl out of his throat and he can’t afford to do that in the middle of the street.</p><p>So he walks. Walks until he realizes that he’s in an area he does not recognize and sees that he’s standing right outside a cemetery.</p><p>Tharn walks through the entrance.</p><p>Crossing the threshold of the cemetery is like flipping a switch on the rest of the world because everything else just fades. It is quiet and serene and so far removed from the turbulence inside his own head that Tharn finds the silence bitter on his tongue.</p><p>Swallowing around his dry throat, he walks and looks at the names carved on the headstones around him. Looks at the burnt out incense sticks and the flowers, both wilting and fresh around the yard. Sees gravesites that have been abandoned and ones that obviously have someone taking care of them.</p><p>At one point, he finds a bench conveniently situated under a cluster of trees and Tharn turns towards there. He reaches the bench just in time; his thighs refuse to hold up his weight and they crumple under him almost immediately.</p><p>The scents of grass, incense and flora blend around him and Tharn takes a breath. Under the shade of the trees, he feels some of his rage seep out and shame begins to set in.</p><p>God he’s such an idiot. Idiotic and Stupid and selfish and fuck- he doesn’t deserve Type. Not after today.</p><p>Type had a nightmare a few nights ago before but unlike the previous times, instead of accepting Tharn’s comfort, he’d wanted to be alone. He refused to let Tharn touch him and while that hurt, Tharn knew better than to push so he said nothing. He’d simply given Type the bed and laid awake on the couch.</p><p>The next morning, Type had been testy and snappish and he kept a firm distance between the two of them even as Tharn had driven them to the university. That behaviour continued for several days and every instance where Type pushed him away both hurt and angered Tharn.</p><p>Yes he would give Type space if he needed it but Type lashing out at him and refusing to even speak to Tharn had him feeling aggravated. So today, he decides to push back. He’d confronted Type almost as soon as he’d walked through the door, ignoring the fact that Type had been attempting to study.</p><p>Type had tried to ignore Tharn but Tharn refused to be pushed aside this time and he pressed. When his hand had fallen on Type’s shoulder, something exploded in his soulmate and Type had lost it.</p><p>What had followed could very well be classified as their first <em>fight</em>. Arguments and bickering were a part of their daily life but this? This was a <strong><em>fight</em></strong>. This was harsh words and cruel accusations, every word said with the intention to wound.</p><p>Tharn was used to Type sniping at him and being an ass. But today? He couldn’t take another word.</p><p>So, he turned and stormed out of the apartment with the clothes on his back and his phone.</p><p>And Type hadn’t stopped him.</p><p>Type let him go; let him leave the apartment and that had fear and those familiar doubts clawing itself up Tharn’s spine.</p><p>Was Type done with him? Did he regret ever seeing Tharn all those months ago? Does he regret loving Tharn? Is he going to try and break the bond again? Has he ever truly loved Tharn, irrespective of the bond that ties them together?</p><p>The humming in his chest twinges in fear and Tharn curls over himself, sobbing his heart out in the middle of an unknown cemetery.</p><p>Until a hand lands on his shoulder. With a gasp, he jerks and twists away from the offending limb. He might not have Type’s aversion to touch but it doesn’t mean he welcomes the touch of a stranger.  </p><p>But the face that gazes at him in concern is no stranger.</p><p>“P’Jeed? Wh-”</p><p>She doesn’t give him a chance to answer; instead she slides into the open space next to Tharn and pulls him into her shoulder.</p><p>Tharn freezes and he almost pushes her away on instinct. But a sweet hand runs through his hair and she smells like whiskey and coconut and in a weird way, it reminds Tharn so much of his own mother that he finds himself relaxing. His arms wind around P’Jeed’s back and he takes a shuddering breath.</p><p>“Let it out N’Tharn. It’s okay to cry.”</p><p>And cry he does. Tharn cries for his failures, for the bond that’s mourning in his chest, for the man back in their apartment. He cries ugly tears, wetting the linen under him and through it all, P’Jeed holds him.</p><p>When the tears finally run out, she hands him a tissue from her purse and gives Tharn a few minutes to compose himself.</p><p>“Would you like to talk about it?”</p><p>Tharn shakes his head and she doesn’t pry further. They sit in silence for a few minutes, both staring out at the silent graveyard until P’Jeed finally speaks again.</p><p>“Have I ever told you how I met my soulmate?”</p><p>Tharn blinks at her and shakes his head again; he’s known Jeed and Khong for two years but has never heard the story of how they’ve met.  </p><p>P’Jeed tucks a lock of her hair behind her ears; the wind has shifted and it tousles the few strands of dark brown hair that have escaped the low bun. “We met in my last year of university; I was 22 -23? No...23. He quite literally ran into me.”</p><p>Her voice takes on a lilting quality and Tharn recognizes it as something akin to his mother’s <em>I’m-gonna-impart-some-wisdom-now-so-hush-up-and-listen</em> voice.</p><p>So he settles himself a little more comfortably on the bench and listens. He’s in no mood to talk anyways.</p><p>“I’d just finished my last exam and I had secured an internship at a local bar; I graduated in Business Administration and the end goal was to run my own business of course. I was exhausted but happy and very much eager to get home and relax. He was there to wish his juniors and he took that moment to quite literally bowl me over because he wasn’t looking where his feet were leading him. He had that unfortunate habit.”</p><p>“There was some cursing and some apologies but then we realized what had happened and at that moment; ah we were so happy. Finding your soulmate was still a big deal 10 years ago and for the both of us, new grads and being so young, we were lucky to find each other when we had.”</p><p>“But the thing no one told us about soul bonds is that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Everyone thinks that because the universe has given you this person all your problems get chucked out the window. But we fought <em>all the time</em>. We were stubborn and neither one of us liked to compromise so we argued about anything and everything. Where I lived, my friends, his friends, my work. He wanted to get married and have me stay at home but I refused; I worked hard to put myself through school and I wasn’t about to let 4 years go to waste. He thought me opening a bar was a ludicrous idea; women running their own businesses...how quaint.”</p><p>Tharn feels the ire rise in him; he knows women who are fantastic business owners and experts in their fields and the idea that P’Jeed had to deal with that judgement from P’Khong angers him.</p><p>But Tharn’s confused too.</p><p>He’s <em>seen</em> P’Jeed and P’Khong together; they’re the best couple he knows (apart from his parents) and it’s difficult to coalesce the image of the sweet man who rushes around to get his wife a drink as she rushes around to help her customers, with a man who would refuse to let P’Jeed open the bar in the first place.</p><p>Jeed sees the indignation in Tharn’s eyes and she pats his knee fondly. “Don’t get so upset on my account Nong. That was just the mindset of society back then; still is for some ignorant fuckers and probably will be despite all the strides and accomplishments women will make. But that’s a rant for another day.”</p><p>“My family and I didn’t get along so they didn’t know I’d found my soulmate. It was just my best friend who knew about him. And he didn’t tell his family about me; I suspected that despite the bond and the knowledge that he was supposed to love me, he was ashamed of me. I wasn’t like his mother and his sisters, they were quiet and subservient. I was brash and loud and unlike anything he’d ever seen. He told me that once, a rare occasion where we weren’t fighting. I took it as a compliment, he meant it as something I needed to fix. It wasn’t all bad though; we had some good moments. He did love me in his own way and he was a romantic. I got flowers and chocolates after our fights and one night, he surprised me with a candlelit dinner under the stars.”</p><p>“And then, two months after we’d been together, we had one of our worst fights. It was terrible; things were thrown around, we were yelling and just being plain cruel to one another and I told him I wished he was dead.”</p><p>She hears the sharp intake of breath from Tharn and regret fills her features, “I know. It was a terrible, awful thing for me to say but I was just so angry at him and the words burst out of me before I could stop it. I left the apartment before he could say anything and I went to work. I ignored his calls and then shut off my phone because he wouldn’t stop. Part of it was anger and part was guilt for what I had said.”</p><p>Jeed closes her eyes and turns her face upwards, “I don’t even remember what I was doing but I had this feeling that he was coming. I dropped what I was holding and I ran outside and I saw him coming with this bouquet of frangipani; they’re my favorite flowers. The idiot was coming to apologize to me, despite the horrible thing I’d said and I just...I was so ashamed of myself.”</p><p>“I watched as he stepped on the road and I looked away in shame. All I heard was the screech of wheels and then…my vision went monochrome.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?”</p><p>The word feels like it’s been punched out of Tharn’s chest and he’s watching P’Jeed with wide eyes. What is she- was P’Khong not her soulmate?</p><p>P’Jeed still keeps her face turned upwards and a sad smile crosses her lips, “Yes. Khong isn’t whom I’m speaking about. My soulmate was Prow. He’s buried here actually. I come every week to pay my respects to him.”</p><p>“For years after Prow died, I held myself accountable for his death. I was ashamed and furious with myself because if I hadn’t been so stubborn, if I had just talked to him instead of always fighting and shutting him out, he’d be here with me. I never even went to his funeral; I didn’t think he’d want me there. For years, I felt disgusted with myself and I told myself I was unfit to be loved. The universe had given me a gift and I was too selfish to appreciate it.”</p><p>“But then Khong came into my life. I had no intention of making him anything other than a one night stand but the damn man was persistent. He said that it didn’t matter to him if the universe hadn’t made him my first choice, I was still his. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t be able to see color; he loved me anyway.”</p><p>“The day I finally gave in to him was the day I came to see Prow here and beg his forgiveness. But more than that, I wanted to be able to forgive myself. Forgive myself for what I’d said to him and for the hurt we caused each other by not understanding one another.”</p><p>Finally Jeed turns to face him and she takes his left hand in hers; the one with Type’s name etched in his skin for the world to see. She runs her fingers over the red markings, “Take my story as advice Nong. I got lucky and the universe gave me another gift in the form of Khong. You might not be so lucky. I know how much you and Type love each other, despite all the huffing and puffing that boy does. Talk to him, be patient with him but more than anything, be patient with yourself. You’re not meant to always be the strong one; it’s okay to need a break and take some time for yourself.”</p><p>“But I’m his-”</p><p>“You <em>are</em> his. And he is yours. But that does not mean that you’re allowed to be punching bags. You’re both human. Emotions will always get in the way despite what the universe has ordained. What’s important is to talk; to come up with your own language that gets the words across when actual speaking words don’t seem to work. Learn to forgive yourself for when you do fight. Understand?”</p><p>P’Jeed waits until Tharn gives a slow nod and then she smiles. She pats his cheek sweetly and stands, “Let me go see Prow and then I’ll drive you home. You and your boy need to talk.”</p><p>
  <em>Ooo</em>
</p><p>Jeed takes him home and drops him off in front of the apartment with a sweet kiss to his cheek and a smile.</p><p>As the elevator takes him up to the 10<sup>th</sup> floor, Tharn lets his thoughts wander.</p><p>Despite their year together, there’s still a lot of baggage that both he and Type haven’t uncovered. This fight and their past arguments have made that much clear. He knows Type will never completely recover from his trauma but Tharn deserves more than to be Type’s punching bag and to live in constant doubt that Type might suddenly change his mind if Tharn pushes him too hard.</p><p>God, they definitely need to talk.</p><p>He hears the voices before he can even step out of the elevator. Walking down the hallway, he picks out Lhong, his brother, even Tum. Techno and Champ are there but Type’s voice is notably absent.</p><p>Picking up his pace, Tharn reaches their  apartment and goes for the handle.</p><p>But it swings open before he can touch it and suddenly his vision is full of Type. </p><p>His boy looks awful and Tharn feels the guilt cut right through him even as the bond hums away in delight at their reunion.</p><p>Type moves first, yanking him forward, fingers curling in his sweat soaked shirt. Tharn doesn’t even hesitate. He’s winding his own arms around his boy and he inhales deep.</p><p>Salt. Grass. Cologne. <em>Home</em>. <strong>Soulmate</strong>.</p><p>“You’re okay. You’re home. I thought-” Type sniffles in his neck and Tharn can’t help but squeeze him tighter. He knows what kind of thoughts would have been running in his soulmate’s mind; the same went through his. It just further cements the fact that they really have some things to talk about.</p><p>“I know; I’m sorry I left. I’m home okay? But we need to talk <em>tilak</em>. Really <em>talk</em>.”</p><p>Type pulls away with wide eyes and there’s obvious panic in the deep brown orbs. Tharn doesn’t get the chance to calm him before Thorn’s pulling him away and smacking upside the head with righteous indignation in his eyes, “Tharn you absolute idiot! What the hell were you thinking?!”</p><p>It takes them 20 minutes of smacking Tharn, lecturing and yelling along with unmitigated relief that he’s back and alive before Champ finally seems to remember that Tharn had left in the first place due to a fight and the tension from that still hangs in the apartment.</p><p>With startling efficiency, he herds everyone out of the apartment, including Thorn with a firm hand and a respectful yank.</p><p>Through it all, Type stays close to Tharn, not fully touching him but close enough that their shoulders brush each other’s.</p><p>Tharn can feel the anxiety radiating off his soulmate, can feel the distress in their bond and he longs to reach out and curl his fingers around Type’s fidgety ones. But he resists. Before they can touch, before they can do anything; there are words that need to be said.</p><p>Then finally the door closes behind their friends and the silence that fills the apartment is...<em>god Tharn hates it</em>. Hates this insecure air that’s hanging between them because they shouldn’t have that; not after a year together, not after all the struggles they’d been through to get <em>here</em>.</p><p>So, he breathes in deep and turns to his soulmate, ready to bare his heart.</p><p>He doesn’t get the chance.</p><p>Like before, Type yanks him forward but this time they’re both slumping to the ground and Type’s fingers are clutching his shirt and he’s sobbing.</p><p>Heart wrenching, hiccupping, ugly sobs and all Tharn can do is just hold him.</p><p>“Type-”</p><p>“Please don’t leave me again! Please! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said those things to you; I know - please just don’t-”</p><p>He’s dissolving into sobs again and Tharn gathers Type tighter in his arms.</p><p>“Oh <em>tilak</em>, sweet boy; I'm sorry too.”</p><p>Curling his fingers under Type’s jaw, Tharn pulls their lips together and he can taste the salt of Type’s tears. Under him, the tension in his boy melts and Type opens for him. His tongue snakes in and he’s kissing Tharn hard, fingers clutching the shirt and all but straddling his mate.</p><p>Tharn’s thumb ring feels cool against his cheek and Type revels in the comfortable and familiar touch of it. Tharn surrounds him and when he breaks away for air, he’s pushing his face in the crook of Tharn’s neck and inhaling deep.</p><p>Tharn rubs circles over his back, “<em>Tilak</em>- Type. Listen to me sweetheart; I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you.”</p><p>“But you walked away from me. You walked out of our apartment and you didn’t answer me.” Type’s mumble is soft but Tharn hears it anyway.</p><p>“I needed a few minutes-”</p><p>A bit of Type’s fire comes back because he’s clenching his fists and his voice is hard, “You were gone for <em>hours</em>. Lhong thought you’d been kidnapped! Thorn was about to call the police and the only reason I wasn’t completely losing my mind was because I could still feel the bond. You walked away from me and you didn’t answer my calls and I thought you hated me and didn’t want me anymo <em>mphh</em>!”</p><p>Type’s rant is cut short by Tharn’s mouth over his lips. He wants to bite the offending hand but Tharn’s looking at him with such seriousness in his eyes that he shelves the idea for a different time.</p><p>“Stop; we’re going to stop this right now. I will never not want you Type. Get that through your thick, stubborn skull alright? Soulmate or not, I love you and that doesn’t change just because I get angry. And I will get angry. So will you. When that happens, we can’t do what we did today afternoon; that fight was unfair to both of us and we both said hurtful things.”</p><p>Rising off the floor, Tharn pulls Type with him and he moves to the couch. They settle in a familiar position; Type on his lap, scrunched up with his head tucked under Tharn’s chin.</p><p>It offers the comfort of touch but also allows both of them to speak their mind without having to look each other in the eyes. Stubborn as they are, both boys have their own past and the bond they have doesn’t negate the fact that sometimes they find it difficult to truly bare their hearts.</p><p>Tharn wants that to change; or in the very least, he wants to get better at being able to properly communicate with Type.</p><p>He squeezes the soft waist under his hands, “I love you; that will never change. We’re going to fight again; maybe not as bad as today or maybe even worse. And when that happens, you and I are going to need time apart. Time to just clear our heads and to cool down. That’s why I left the apartment today. Not because I don’t love you but because if I hadn’t I would have said worse things that I didn’t mean. You and I have a bad habit of using each other as punching bags; physically and emotionally and that’s not fair to you or to me. We both have issues with talking but it’s gonna have to be something we get over quick.”</p><p>Type sniffs and curls in deeper, “I’m not good with words...you know this. You’ve always been the talker in this relationship.”</p><p>“When I’m flirting and teasing you or when I’m being social. But actually talking? That’s hard for me. They get...stuck; like I can’t get them out and because I’m worried of saying the wrong thing and pushing you away. That’s something I’m always afraid of.”</p><p>“I get afraid too. I’m afraid I’ll push you too far and you’ll be done with me. Even after a year together, I still think like that...I hate that I do.”</p><p>Tharn sighs and gently knocks their heads together, “I hate that I’m afraid too. But it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. You love me too right?”</p><p>There’s just a hint of actual doubt in his voice and Type hears it. He pinches Tharn’s side, just a quick squeeze but he does reach up to press a soft kiss to his mate’s lips.</p><p>“Without a doubt. Lifetimes, we said. Remember?”</p><p>“Yeah. Lifetimes.”</p><p>There’s silence for a bit before Type breaks it, “I still hold myself accountable for what happened. I know you’ve said before that it wasn’t my fault but…the nightmares…it warps that and I can’t stop blaming myself.”</p><p>Tharn feels his heart swell despite the heartbroken way Type speaks. Because they’re doing it – they’re communicating.</p><p>“I’m here. Don’t forget that.”</p><p>He clutches Type a little together and they stay like that on the couch, talking softly until their heartbeats lull each other to sleep.</p><p>The next morning, Tharn’s met with thigh muscles and a back that absolutely screams murder at him when he tries to stand. He ends up lying face down on the bed, cursing himself and Type nine ways to hell when as his <em>tua-eng</em> unsuccessfully attempts to cover his laughter while placing heating pads over the sore muscles.</p><p>But there’s a smile hidden under his cursing.</p><p>Tharn knows their talk last night was just the tip of the iceberg but he’s willing to put in the work to fix it and it soothes him to know that Type will do the same.</p><p>
  <em>Ooo</em>
</p><p>It’s not easy by any means. It takes a while. Weeks, months, years.</p><p>It takes more fights, more yelling, more anger and more obstinacy that neither of them realized they were capable of. It takes drinking in bars, crying on the shoulders of their friends and families, long walks alone on the streets of Chang Mai.</p><p>But they grow, they adapt, they mature. And eventually, they stop leaving their home for the comfort of someone else’s and simply...migrate to opposite corners of the apartment to cool down. They use their words for something other than sniping, teasing and flirting.</p><p>And sometimes, they don’t even need words.</p><p>Sometimes it's a sprite Type silently hands over. It's a squeeze on Type’s ankle. It's soft innocent kisses on the corners of lips that slowly trail down jaws and over shoulders and quickly turns into something decidedly less innocent.</p><p>Sometimes it’s Tharn pushing him against a wall to take him hard and fast and Type raking his nails down the pale back, marking the tattoo that lies there. Sometimes it’s Type bringing Tharn apart with his mouth and hands, letting Tharn curl his long fingers in his hair as he bites the skin near his groin.</p><p>They find their own way to speak and it’s not perfect, but it’s them.</p><p>They forgive each other and they forgive themselves. They heal.</p><p>When they do; when Tharn finds that balance that P’Jeed had told him about all those years ago, he goes back to the cemetery.</p><p>Type comes with him, quiet and still as Tharn kneels in front of the gravesite.</p><p>Type knows the story now; knows about Jeed and Prow; knows how she helped Tharn on that blistering hot day.</p><p>He is thankful and he is grateful and he <em>wais </em>respectfully as Tharn lays the fresh bouquet of frangipani on the tomb.</p><p>Tharn stands, brushes off the knees of his khakis and steps back to entangle Type’s fingers with his. They breathe in together, watching the red embers of the lit incense and the smoke twist and disappear in the air.</p><p>“Okay?” Type asks softly besides him.</p><p>Tharn turns and smiles, brings their hands together to press a kiss against the silver ring on the fourth finger.</p><p>“Very okay.”  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A.N: So this was a little longer...to sate you guys while I write more. You’ll have to wait for bit while my brain works away but I hope you guys come back to enjoy it! </p><p>Thank you for loving this series and this story as much as I do! Thank you for all your love and support…the reviews honestly make me soooo very happy!!!</p><p>Come follow me on tumblr: indiefanficchica or on TikTok: milkchoconessa for fun silly BL content!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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